Solus Ipse
by Allie02
Summary: The first few seconds of each day are the ones that treasures the most, for this is the time when he forgets what has happened to him. AU featuring Peter Grodin and written for the Myth Ficathon at LiveJournal.


Written for the Myth Ficathon hosted at the LiveJournal community "gatecreation", using the prompt 'Sisyphean Challenge'.

_The myth (taken from Wikipedia):_

_**Sisyphus** was a character in Greek mythology who was lauded as one of the cleverest, yet most devious men in history, with a propensity for flouting the traditions of Greek hospitality by murdering his guests. He was eventually condemned after deceiving first Death himself and then Hades, Lord of the Underworld, in order to escape his inevitable demise. As punishment for his audacity, he was sentenced to be blinded and to perpetually roll a giant boulder up a mountain to the peak, only to have it inevitably roll back down the mountain into the valley._

_The plot: _

_I gather that this is an idea that's been rolling around the internet for a while, but I heard it at the Wolf Pegasus One convention in London in February, where Craig Veroni was asked about it. I haven't got a clue who to credit for it; I just don't want to claim the idea as my own, because I'm really not that smart. I've listed my reasoning behind the plot and how it relates to the myth at the end of the story, because it should make more sense then._

**Solus Ipse**

The first few seconds of each day are the ones that treasures the most, for this is the time when he forgets what has happened to him. He remembers nothing of satellites or Hives or transmitters. In those precious moments, he is still Dr. Peter Grodin of the Atlantis expedition.

And then, the memories flood his mind like a tidal wave. He feels as though he is drowning in images of darts, Hive ships and the hands of numerous Wraith clawing ineffectively at his chest. The pain in his back returns as if it were only yesterday when they had cut him open and thrust cold metal into him. He thought then that they would not let him live much longer than a few days. He knows now that that was wishful thinking.

He does his best to blend in to every world that he goes to, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He never stays more than two nights, knowing that the Wraith will come for him. He learnt that lesson the hard way, hurling himself through the Gate as his hunters annihilated the first new world that had befriended him. Now, he only stays long enough to get a meal and a few hours of sleep by any means he can.

He has run through the scenarios too many times to count and comes to the same conclusion every time. The expedition would have evacuated Atlantis, presumably to the Alpha site. They would have destroyed the city, and their only link to Earth. They will never return home, and neither will he. He has trained his mind to forget his life before the city, burying the thoughts of Earth and everything that it represents under the mass of images and feelings that the Pegasus galaxy and it's inhabitants have presented to him. On the rare occasions when he does slip up, when he wonders what his sister looks like now or how his parents are, there is still a dull pain in a corner of his heart. There are some things that even this galaxy and the perils that it hides cannot eradicate.

During those first days of supposed freedom from the Wraith, before they had begun the chase, he had tried to reach every world that he had remembered the Gate address to. When he had found the Alpha site deserted, he waited for days before concluding that they must have found a more suitable planet. None of their supposed allies had heard from them, or if they had, they refused to tell him. He was on Athos when the Wraith finally came for him, searching fruitlessly for any sign of home and family amidst the carnage.

He hasn't heard of them or of Atlantis on new worlds, but then he hasn't tried all that hard to find out. At first, he would ask about them at every village he came across. His questions would often be met with suspicion; after all, how many people can live through a culling only to find that their entire race has disappeared. They don't believe him when he says that he was on another planet at the time, returning home to discover a ravaged world and no survivors. So he has stopped asking. Even if they are alive, the chances of their paths crossing would be slim to none.

They tell him that this planet is called Kael, and that it has only been a few months since their last culling. He has traded the knives that he stole from the last village for a meal, and answers the barkeeper's questions in the indifferent tone that has become as much a part of him as the transmitter under his skin. Yes, his planet was culled. No, he does not know of any other survivors. No, he will not staying long. Yes, he would like a refill. He stays at the inn until nightfall, sipping from his glass as he watches the world pass him by. He manages to raise a brief but genuine smile when the barkeeper holds out a blanket for him as he makes to leave. He has slept beneath the stars every night since he left the hive ship, studying them for hours at a time in an attempt to gain his bearings. It never helps, each constellation differing vastly from the previous one and his memory of those listed in the Ancient database fading fast.

On his second day on Kael, he risks visiting the market. He has learnt not to venture too far from the Gate, but right now he feels the overwhelming need to be surrounded by people. To be surrounded by life. He manages to steal some clothing and fruit, hiding them under his blanket, before the villagers begin to regard him suspiciously. He turns to leave, but stops when his brain registers a familiar sight. He watches the crowd disperse to reveal a man dressed in grey, normally such an inconspicuous colour but clearly distinguishable amongst the sandy brown Kaellian clothing.

Traces of emotion seep into his features for the first time in months as he drops his possessions and races towards the retreating body. The last time that he had seen that colour was when he had traded his uniform for warmer and more unobtrusive clothing on the fourth planet he had run to.

He weaves and darts his way through the crowd, but is already too late. The grey has disappeared and all he has left is a multitude of shades between yellow and brown. And then he laughs. For the first time in months, he roars with laughter. Because he must have been mistaken. The remaining members of the expedition surely would have done as he had, and exchanged their clothing for more simple and practical attire. There are no more Atlantean uniforms, just as there is no more Atlantis.

He makes his way slowly back to his forgotten bundle, now diminished considerably in size due to the curiosity of many passers by. He lingers near the market for a while longer before heading in the direction of the Gate, absorbing the sights and sounds of life that this world has to offer. His senses have adjusted to his new life, his eyes and ears on constant guard for any sign of his hunters. But even _his_ ears fail to pick up the sound of the cloaked puddle jumper as it coasts through the air above his head.

There are days when he wonders whether he should simply give in and wait for the Wraith. They say that cheats never prosper, and he is beginning to think that they are right. He has cheated death twice after all, once when the Dart beamed him off the exploding satellite and again when the Wraith discovered that they couldn't feed on him. And he continues to cheat the Wraith in every day that he persists in this existence. He concludes that this must be his punishment for his deception, for even he cannot call this perpetual state of running as living.

_**fin**_

_Reasoning behind the plot and how it relates to the myth: _

_I've basically just used the final few lines of the myth's description, where Sisyphus deceived Death and Hades and was sentenced to be blinded and roll a giant boulder up a mountain, only to have it roll back down again. Swapping Hades for the Wraith, Peter cheated them because they couldn't feed on him. His punishment was to become a Runner, but obviously he never met Ronon and it seems unlikely that Runners meet other Runners, so he has no idea what that means. He just knows that he is living in a state of perpetual fear. Whenever he feels like he is 'living' again, the Wraith turn up and he has to leave – which is the boulder-up-a-mountain analogy. The fact that he almost sees a member of the expedition but dismisses the idea is also paying tribute to that part of the myth; if he had seen them then the ordeal would be over, but as he didn't he has to start the cycle of running all over again._


End file.
